


The Real Thing

by IdolDaydreams



Series: Tumblr Requests [9]
Category: VIXX
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Reader-Insert, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2016-10-19
Packaged: 2018-08-23 10:17:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8324047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IdolDaydreams/pseuds/IdolDaydreams
Summary: "The drama unfolding on the screen is just that – drama. But this, this is real romance. You embarrass yourself in thinking so."





	

It’s that time of night that makes a person sentimental. Moon filtering in through sheer curtains, your living room is bathed in a soft silvery glow which complements the chill. Soon you’ll have to switch them out for heavy ones, but you tell yourself you want to hold onto the ambiance. Taekwoon lies back on the couch, his fingertips shriveled from helping you wash dishes. Well, more accurately, he washed and you dried. You sit with his legs draped across your lap, massaging away the painful remnants of a cramp during late practice. Your fingers probe deep into the affected muscle, drawing an occasional sound of relief.

On your TV, a Japanese movie plays. If you’re honest, you’re not paying much attention to it. You’re too focused on the moment, on the overwhelming normalcy of it. On how excited Taekwoon sounds when he understands a word or phrase without the subtitles. The unbridled straightness of the movie’s main characters is just white noise. It’s the backdrop to a scene you wish you could play over and over again. The drama unfolding on the screen is just that – drama. But this, this is real romance. You embarrass yourself in thinking so.

You hear Taekwoon saying your name and look over. “You stopped,” he tells you. “Do your hands hurt?”

Briefly taking stock, you notice they do ache. However, it’s not enough to stop the massage, to stop taking care of him. “No, I’m fine.” You pick up where you left off. “I was just thinking.”

Distracted from the movie, he moves to pull himself up on his elbows. In doing so, he pulls his legs just out of your reach. You scoot over to compensate. “About what?”

You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. “How happy I am.”

Taekwoon mirrors you and laughs, an eyebrow raised. “But we’re not doing anything.”

“We don’t have to be.” You pause, looking down to watch yourself work. “I know we’ve been talking a lot about what we can’t have right now, or maybe ever. But if it means I still get to do this whenever you’re home, then I don’t want anything else.”

This time, he scoots over. You lift your hands away, watching him. He comes to the rest with the tops of his thighs against yours, all but sitting in your lap. His eyes shine with something you can’t quite place, though confusion is somewhere in the mix. Gently he chops your neck. “You’re being weird.” The bright smile and the honey in his voice betray his words.

“You write love songs for a living,” you reply with a schoolyard sort of taunt. Your mocking expression only lasts as long as it takes you to notice Taekwoon is looking at your lips. Leaning in, you meet him in a chaste kiss. He exhales his contentment against your cheek. The feeling draws a humming chuckle from your throat. Several seconds pass before he pulls away. When he does, his expression is serious, like he’s trying to read you. Like he can’t believe this is happening. A part of you wants to ask, but you decide against it. He’ll tell you eventually.

Ahead of you, the music crescendos. You look at the TV to find the leading couple locked sobbing in an embrace. Pouring rain adds to the atmosphere, and you want to gag a little. You look back to Taekwoon. “You’re missing the end.”

He doesn’t spare it a single glance. Instead he’s focused solely on you. His gaze meets yours only to travel back down to your lips. The familiar look of desire, the one he saves only for you, passes over his face. “I’ve seen it.” Taekwoon clasps his hands on the back of your neck and yanks you into another kiss. The moment you make contact, his tongue probes the seam of your lips. The kiss deepens. His fingertips feel like clammy prunes against your skin. Nothing, you decide, could be better than this. Nothing at all.


End file.
